I’m charmed by the Nintendo DS styling and classic roguelike charm of Shiren the Wanderer: The Mystery Dungeon Of Serpentcoil Island, but I’m really having trouble finding the motivation to play through the opening levels multiple times to get to the engaging stuff. The early stages quickly lose the sense of surprise, and later stages can result in a lack of true agency. I want the recent roguelike to be lively and verdant; full of large plans and plot twists that destroy the plans. However, with such a significant influence of randomness on each run, Mystery Dungeon feels variable rather than emergent – less than the sum of several incredibly inventive and innovative parts.
One of these parts is a talking ferret named Koppa, bless him. He will be making miniature talk on behalf of your character, Shiren, who chooses to remain still in a way that may be practiced stoicism, but mostly creates a feeling of constant bewilderment. At the beginning of the game, the adventurer duo finds themselves deep in the titular dungeon, is struck, wakes up in a nearby village, and vows to return to the mountains to search for a valuable treasure in the belly of a giant monster.
It’s a uncomplicated gimmick, but Mystery Dungeon has such a stunning, sultry JRPG feel – all affable colors and lush, moving instruments – that it’s basic to get drawn into its world. The story progresses gradually after you fail a few runs or discover recent locations while traveling into the mountains, during which you meet recent characters and factions, and sometimes unlock recent paths. An ordinary town can turn out to be surprising and mysterious, and the usually sleepy beach in the initial village may host an uninvited guest one morning. The story scenes aren’t so common that you’ll see them every time you start them, so they’re a welcome break when they do appear.
For the most part, though, you’ll be tackling this mountain one tile at a time. Each step or action you take counts as one turn, during which all nearby monsters will also take theirs. The goal in each stage is to locate the exit to the next level, though you’ll want to explore it thoroughly to collect loot and experience. Shiren heals one HP per tile, but also drains the hunger bar. If this runs out, you’ll lose health, so you’ll want to stock up on onigiri (rice balls). Shiren’s HP increases as she levels up, but you can also eat medicinal herbs at full HP to get a few more points. Your hunger meter doesn’t escalate this way, but you can escalate it by eating onigiri when you’re already full.
This is a very engaging question: do you leave these things in case of desperation, or do you try to strengthen Shiren beforehand? Onigiri can also rot if you try to collect them, and Mystery Dungeon is also a game full of recent, emerging reactions. If you are hit by a fireball, any onigiri you are holding will grill, enhancing its effect. How can you plan for this? Well, you can’t. Like basically everything engaging here, it just happens sometimes. If you’re thinking “actually, this might be a problem”, well…
In its most basic form, combat involves trading blows with enemies, turn by turn, by issuing attack commands. But really, everything engaging and noteworthy about combat encounters comes from your inventory. By exploring and slaying monsters, you’ll collect a bag of scrolls, staffs, pots, and other supplies. A shot from the paralysis cane can render the chubby cat incapacitated for several turns. Or better yet, apply it on a fast-hopping frog that steals your gold if it gets too close. Some dragon’s breath grasses will make Shiren breathe fire – although you can save them for spirits that are immune to physical attacks later. The Bladewind Scroll will clear a room in seconds, but it’s better to hide it in enemy-filled vaults. There are also more esoteric effects. Switching positions. Confusion. An empathy spell that returns damage to the sender. Learning how to counter an extensive bestiary remains a highlight, even if there’s little you can do to prepare.
Let me repeat: these are all random pick-ups. You can save and plan, and you usually have at least a few things that can get you out of trouble, but just getting tactically lucky with the drops, using them in obvious situations, and then jumping into action doesn’t give you much tactical satisfaction on your merry way, until you get stuck in a bind where you are too exhausted from the good things to deal with them. Emergent gameplay is great. It’s better than great. This is one of the greatest joys of gaming. But it must be based on action, planning and decision-making. There’s certainly some of it, but I think the best way I can put it is that all this newness can’t keep up with the pace of progress. When you make discoveries, it’s incredibly absorbing. When you implement these discoveries for the fifteenth time, it feels like routine work. All of this means I’m not excited for another run, just keeping my fingers crossed until the game decides to spit out some merciful treasure.
In addition to monsters, dungeon floors also hide traps and secrets. Get the wrong foot during combat and you can hit a tile that strips you of your inventory, forcing you to spend two precious turns to grab your sword and shield again. Or you might just get hit halfway down the floor by a giant spring. Shopkeepers and blacksmiths are uncommon in the occasional village between floors, but you’ll occasionally find a shop in a dungeon. I’m 99% sure the seller will attack you if you don’t pay, but I’ve never been brave enough to try. There are also hidden walls, water that you can dispel with a specific scroll for extra loot, and companions – one of which will allow you to send a single item back to storage for your next run. The way it usually works is that I send back my second best sword and find a much better one on the second floor.
Of course, it doesn’t aid that I’m playing an early version, so I can’t fully enjoy one of the more engaging things Mystery Dungeon does: rescues. In each run you can request three rescues. This can be done online – see above. You can also save yourself by going to the place where you died. Why would you do that when it’s just as time-consuming as a recent run, and the version of you that died obviously didn’t have a fruitful run or it would still be alive? Honest question. In fact, I hope I missed some insightful feature that will allow me to enjoy my time with my ferret more.
More than with other games, my experience with Mystery Dungeon feels like a case of the reviewer’s curse; scary roguelike embargo. Play one at a time as part of a cozy evening ritual and the glow will last much longer. Still, that feeling of instability – of having no control over how your runs will go in the face of random falls – seems to be sealed. Perhaps that’s the problem for me, having to deal with the untamed chaos lurking beneath such an inviting presentation. Maybe I should let go and let the winds of fate take me away. It’s just not basic when they keep knocking me back to the bottom of the mountain and making me trust them again if I want to get back to the top.
